


South

by yeaka



Series: Compass [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto goes through his lovers.





	South

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There are counterparts in this “series”, but they’re all standalone.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

For what felt like a long, long time, Prompto had no one at all. 

He’d occasionally overhear his classmates bemoaning the same thing to their friends, but that wasn’t the _same_ , because they did _have_ friends. They’d whine about their parents not paying enough attention to them, but their parents were still _there_ , whereas Prompto rarely saw his at all. He still rarely sees them.

But at least now he has friends, plus three amazing lovers that are so much _more_ than that.

Noctis was his first, of course. His first everything. His first friendship crush, his first _real_ crush, his first kiss and his first lay. He still vividly remembers when he first spoke to Noctis, back when they were children, and Prompto tripped all over himself just trying to say _hi_.

He remembers going up to Noctis after sweating off several dozen pounds and trying the ‘fake it til you make it’ routine, pretending they were buddies. Only, Noctis didn’t shrug him off. Noctis welcomed him in, learned to lean on him, became his confidant and co-conspirator. A great weight fell from Prompto’s shoulders, because he never felt alone again.

Even when Noctis is busy, they’re still _together_. Their text conversations could fill several encyclopedias. It used to stay strictly platonic, _just in case_. They used to swap lame jokes and video game secrets and homework woes over the phone, then sneak over to each other’s places to make out on the couch. Even just fumbling around with Noctis, both of them inexperienced and sloppy, was amazing. It still is. They never found a rhythm. They’re a messy pair of idiots that fit together perfectly.

Now Noctis texts him ridiculous things like: _I miss your dick_ from under the grand council table in the Citadel. Prompto knows it’s an important meeting about the nation’s complicated immigration issues. It’s Tuesday night and Noctis has been tied up there for hours, texting Prompto inappropriate clips the entire time. Prompto knows that if the king catches them, if _anyone_ catches them, he’ll be in serious trouble. But Noctis is addicting and worth it and Prompto’s immature too, so he pops his jeans open and snaps a pic to send his dumbass boyfriend. 

Noctis answers with a hand pointing at a donut. He demands Prompto be at his apartment when he gets home. Prompto has a few university classes tomorrow and really should be working on his portfolio, but he couldn’t stay away from Noctis if he wanted to. 

He loves Noctis more than he could ever hope to express, but he’s bad with words and embarrassing things, so instead he just trails after Noctis like the lovesick puppy that he is. He’s hiding in the bedroom when he hears Ignis drop Noctis off. Noctis suggests Ignis stay too, but Ignis sounds like he has work to do and leaves after a lecture about having a healthy dinner. 

They order pizza like cretins and eat it on the couch in between rounds of a racing game. They play the verses mode, distracting one another with childish noises and intimate touching. That dissolves into mutual hand jobs, and soon Prompto has both hands on Noctis’ ass and Noctis’ tongue in his mouth. They make out with the bottled up passion of all the days they’ve been apart. Prompto could suck on Noctis’ tongue for _hours_.

But he also wants the rest of Noctis’ body, and Noctis wants him, and they take turns taking each other over the coffee table. By the time midnight rolls around, they’ve only beaten two levels, but they’ve both come twice, and Prompto feels _immensely_ satisfied. Noctis is barely awake, but he’s clearly content. Prompto stays the night, and not just because Noctis’ bed is so much more comfortable than his: he genuinely feels like he _belongs_ at Noctis’ side. He sleeps over with Noctis whenever he can.

Then Wednesday morning rolls around, and Ignis comes to drag Noctis off for a rare lunch with his father. They drop Prompto off at the university on the way. He can still taste Noctis on his tongue, even hours later at work. Noctis suggests another sleep over, and it breaks Prompto’s heart that he can’t do it. 

On Thursday, he has a photoshoot at the crack of dawn. It distracts him for a while, even though he’s painfully aware that the model he’s shooting couldn’t ever measure up to three other particular men. The photos come out great, although he’ll still need to do some digital touch-ups. The client likes what she sees so far, and she promises to hire Prompto again. Prompto’s in a good mood when he shows up at practice. 

Gladiolus sees that and smirks, which tells Prompto’s he’s in for a rough time. Gladiolus always tells him to stay focused, to keep his head in the game. That’s a hard job when his sparring partner is a chiseled dreamboat with muscles for days. 

Gladiolus was his second catch. He didn’t mean to, never would’ve dreamed of it, actually started off intimidated by Noctis’ towering shield. But then Prompto resolved to join the Crownsguard, and Gladiolus offered to train him. Gladiolus was, _is_ , so incredibly helpful. They became much closer over that. They became so close that Prompto couldn’t help moaning whenever Gladiolus pinned him down and dug into his smaller buddy, huskily growling into his ear. Where Noctis is light, Gladiolus is hard. Gladiolus throws him against the wall and grinds into him before snickering and pulling away. Prompto stumbles back and tries to recover.

He can’t. He loses every round, which is to be expected: he’s not _quite_ there yet, even though there are odd occasions where he does manage to get the upper hand for a fleeting moment. He knows it’s _possible_ to beat Gladiolus swiftly and soundly, because he’s seen Ignis do it more than once. Gladiolus claps him on the back, congratulates him for his effort, and tells him he’ll get there someday. He glows with the praise.

Then they’re in the changing rooms, stripping out of their sweat-drenched clothed, and Prompto can’t stop panting and eyeing Gladiolus. He winds up on his knees in front of Gladiolus’ bench, paying his dues for losing. Showing his appreciation. Gladiolus has helped him grow so much. Blowjobs are always harder after practice: his lungs are still struggling. But he loves the stretch of Gladiolus’ enormous cock pushing at his jaw, so he does it anyway. 

He takes Gladiolus inside his ass in the showers. They always stay later than everyone else just for this. Even if there were any witnesses, Prompto wouldn’t care. He’s proud of attracting such a handsome, vigorous, wonderful man, and he’s as loud as he wants to be while Gladiolus pounds him against the tile. 

He comes with explosive force and is fucked right through it. He’s dizzy by the end. Gladiolus has to towel him off. He barely makes it into his clothes. The bus ride home is uncomfortable, but it was totally worth it. 

Friday’s classes are uncomfortable, but Prompto still doesn’t regret it. He enjoys the memories. At least he doesn’t have to sit down or walk too much at work. It’s just a part time cashier gig. He needs the money. Gladiolus comes in just before closing to buy some protein bars and gripe about Noctis not working hard enough. Prompto offers to come cheer him on next practice, but Gladiolus rightfully laughs that that wouldn’t increase training focus at all. Their banter is easy and joyous.

On Saturday, Prompto has the day off but all booked up. He has three appointments for looking at apartments, which is both exciting and nerve-wracking. He’s so grateful when Ignis shows up for the second one. It makes it more fun to pace through different rooms, imagining out loud what his life would be like there. Ignis indulges his chatter and points out helpful things, like the shower being too small to fit Gladiolus in or the walls being too thin. Ignis also understands the legal and financial talk better than Prompto does, which gives him a sense of security—someone smart is looking out for him. They don’t find a perfect place, but Ignis deems it a good start.

Ignis seems tired from his own busy week, but he still invites Prompto over for dinner afterwards. Prompto jumps at the chance, and not just because Ignis is an amazing cook. Ignis was the last to share his bed, but their connection’s no lesser for it. They came to know each other through Noctis, but they clicked well and grew so much beyond that. Once they’d been friendly for some time, Ignis extended a deeper invitation. Prompto had already been thinking about it in too many wistful daydreams. 

Ignis is charming. He’s handsome, of course, undeniably beautiful, and suave and clever with a quick tongue and quicker hands. He’s the tighter-wound, better-planned counter balance to Prompto’s frantic energy. They share something incredibly special that Prompto’s forever grateful for. 

Prompto helps Ignis make dinner in a peripheral fashion, and he showers Ignis with complements while he eats it. He offers to wash the dishes, but Ignis insists, so Prompto just dries. Once upon a time, Prompto would’ve left afterwards, because it used to be so hard to imagine that someone like Ignis could possibly want someone like Prompto to stay. 

Now Prompto’s felt Ignis’ heartbeat too many times to think Ignis feels anything less than _love_ for him. He admits that he wants to stay a little longer, and Ignis bends down to kiss him. Prompto kisses back, always trying to be as cool as Ignis, but always failing. 

They move to the bedroom, where their clothes come off in teasing strip shows. Prompto climbs onto the bed first, as comfortable there as he is in his own. Then Ignis joins him, kisses him, bends over him, and the two of them make slow, satisfying love while their hands roam and their noses rub. Prompto almost cries when he comes, because Ignis takes him to the edge like that. Ignis knows just how to play him. He hopes he can be as good for Ignis, and he must do alright, because Ignis moans beautifully when he comes. 

Lying in Ignis’ bed, panting at Ignis’ sweaty side, cuddled up in the dark on a Saturday night, truly feels like _home_. Prompto still means to catch the bus, but Ignis rubs his arm and tells him it’s too late to bother. So he stays. Besides, he always loves seeing Ignis in the morning, freshly disheveled and bleary-eyed with misplaced glasses. He’s not going anywhere. 

Then Noctis wakes him up on Sunday morning with a text. Gladiolus made him go for an early run and he’s too sore to fall back asleep. He wants to go to the arcade. Prompto wants to go anywhere that Noctis is.

Before he can answer, Ignis emerges from the washroom to say that if that’s Noctis, please remind him that they have a study session at the Citadel’s library pertaining to Tuesday’s historical restoration meeting. 

Grinning, Prompto warns his best friend to hide. Then he gets up and gets dressed while texting to ask if Gladiolus could manage a second run. He’s off before breakfast, ready for another week.


End file.
